


good to the last drop

by JesterDala



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boys Kissing, Kissing, M/M, Pre-Slash, drinking problem?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 02:17:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4417214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JesterDala/pseuds/JesterDala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was getting to be a bad habit. He really wasn't drinking all that much, but if Bobby and Sam saw half a dozen empty glasses lying around the house, it wouldn't look good, that he was sure of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	good to the last drop

Dean didn't notice at first.

He poured a whiskey, settled down to flip through some old documents while Sam tapped away on his laptop. The clacking keys and the burning in his throat always lulled him into this oddly contented state. It was familiar, and the alcohol gave him a pleasant warm buzz.

Which is why the first time he assumed he just finished the drink and didn't remember. It wasn't like it had never happened before. He must have put it in the sink at some point during his research.

So he poured another.

About an hour passed, and they were still making no progress on their current case. Who knew there were so many conflicting stories about banshees? And South Dakota was no goldmine of information, but they worked with what they had. Dean had gone through so many books that his eyes were going crossed. He needed a break. He shifted and stood when he felt his bladder calling out for immediate attention. Bathroom break.

The rush to the bathroom and a little stretch got his blood pumping, and he was back quickly. Sam was still staring at his laptop screen with a constipated look on his face. Dean smirked, reached for his glass of whiskey and-

It wasn't there. He must have left it in the bathroom.

This was getting to be a bad habit. He really wasn't drinking all that much, but if Bobby and Sam saw half a dozen empty glasses lying around the house, it wouldn't look good, that he was sure of. Well, the research material had to be put away before hitting the hay anyway. He'd just grab the glass then.

Dean collapsed heavily into his chair, poured himself one final glass for the night, and got back to work. His eyes scanned pages and pages of more material, but all he came up with was an incident in North Carolina that sounded nothing like what they were looking for. There were some vague details of a banshee howling up a storm in the middle of the night. But the thing didn't hurt anybody. No cases of violent or unusual deaths linked to the area. Nothing gave him that tingle of suspicion at the back of his neck that he usually got. These leads were all turning into dead ends.

He reached out a hand for his drink but grasped only air.

"Alright, what the hell's going on here?"

Sam kept his head down but raised his questioning gaze to Dean.

"Where'd it go?"

"Where'd what go?"

Dean gestured to the table at large. "I had a glass of whiskey right in front of me. Where'd it go?"

"Oh, that," Sam said dismissively, and looked back down at the screen. He double clicked, and the noise was rapidly getting under Dean's skin.

"Yes, that!"

"I put it in the sink."

"Why?"

Sam shrugged. "You looked like you were done with it. You weren't drinking anymore."

He was trying to pull that logical little brother shit, but Dean wasn't having any of that. It was late, he was tired, he couldn't even enjoy a nice drink to help him wind down.

"What the hell, Sammy?"

"It was almost gone." Now Sam was starting to catch on that Dean was more than a little ticked off. "Bobby complained about the mess we made last time we were here. I didn't want to do that to him again."

Dean said nothing. He can't remember how many times he'd told Sammy the cardinal rules before. You didn't mess with a man's car, girl, or alcohol. That shit was more sacred than any of the holy grounds they'd trespassed on in the past. "I didn't think it was a big deal."

"I didn't even finish the glass, and you dumped it down the sink."

"Is that the problem? You didn't get to finish it?" Sam asked, his tone slightly different now.

"That was the last of the whiskey. What am I supposed to do now?"

"Well," Sam said, wavering right on the verge of standing, like he was trying to decide if he really wanted to. "I didn't dump the last of it down the sink. I finished it."

"You- drank it?" Dean didn't know whether to be mortally offended at the admission, or go with that warm feeling that flared up thinking of Sam's mouth where he had put his. He went with the first one, shaking his head as Sam moved toward him. Dean could see Sam's shirt stretch across his shoulders as he got close.

"Everything that was left," Sam said. He stopped in front of Dean, leaning over on the arms of his chair. The scent of whiskey and static stirred between them. "You could take a taste."

Now Dean couldn't tell if his blood was running hot or cold. "Take a-"

Sam closed the space between them. He wasn't gentle, but he wasn't rough either. His mouth parted and sucked Dean's bottom lip between his teeth, insistent and suggestive. Dean could indeed taste the traces of whiskey on Sam's tongue as it slid over his own. Or maybe he was smelling it on Sam's skin. There was so much Sam so close and so overwhelming, he wasn't sure what his senses were picking up.

Warm weathered hands slid up his chest and grabbed onto his collar, jerking him forward. Dean was grasping the arms of his chair so tightly he wasn't sure if he could let go even if he wanted to. That warm hum that started with the drink slid into his fingers and toes.

Then Sam let him go and backed away. Dean felt the space between them, and it was light, like someone had finally stopped smothering him. He could breathe. As he did, he noticed that his lips were especially cold now.

Sam licked his lips. He stared at Dean like he did when he knew he had the upper hand during sparring. Like he knew what came next, like it was a dare.

Dean had no idea what just happened.


End file.
